


"Better"

by IsaacTheGreat69



Series: 'Better' [10]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anxiety, Inpatient Programs, Insecurities, M/M, Mental Hospital, Recovery, Therapy, creepy and crude jokes, dick-shaped objects
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:00:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26472259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsaacTheGreat69/pseuds/IsaacTheGreat69
Summary: Virgil begins the long road to recovery, and Dee finally faces justice.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Joan Stokes, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Creativity | Roman & Logic | Logan & Morality | Patton
Series: 'Better' [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1120860
Comments: 7
Kudos: 52





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the beginning of the end! I have a small one-shot planned after this that takes place back in high school and I may do more after that, but for now let's just celebrate the fact that I finally finished a chapter

Patton came by every day for the next two months, spending nearly all his free time with Roman and Virgil. Slowly but surely, the two of them managed to get Virgil more active, taking a walk around the complex daily. With that came a higher appetite (though he still didn’t eat much), a more stable sleeping schedule (though it was fraught with nightmares), and better hygiene habits. It was easier to talk Virgil into showering now, especially on bad days when they could remind him that a shower would help him feel better. Of course, on those days they had to be careful; if they left him to himself too long Virgil began to scratch and scrub at his skin until it was raw.

Virgil still wouldn’t talk about what happened, not even about his fight with Patton. If anyone even made reference to that day, Virgil would grunt and leave the room. 

That was another thing. Virgil still barely talked, even after slowly becoming acclimated to Patton’s presence again. It was really hit or miss; some days he would speak in short sentences, taking a minute or two to think of what he wanted to say before it came out, and other days he was completely silent save for the occasional grunt, sigh, or hum. Nothing Roman or Patton tried could get Virgil to say more than ten words at a time. 

After much discussion in private moments where Virgil wasn’t likely to overhear, the other three had all agreed that a more intensive approach was necessary. It took a lot of research, deliberation, conversation, and a fight that ended with Virgil walking to the apartment’s small kiddie park before he was willing to even consider an inpatient program. After Patton had helped him back to his and Roman’s apartment, they had all sat in the living room and talked it over. 

“You’re just gonna dump me there and forget about me. That’s what those dumb programs are for.”

“Virgil, we would neve-!”

Logan raises a hand to silence Patton. “On the contrary. Most inpatient programs allow for visiting hours once one has become acclimated to their environment. I’m sure we’ll be visiting you quite often. In addition, they are not meant to house you indefinitely. Inpatient programs offer a myriad of support groups and treatments to help you better cope with your trauma and give you tools to continue doing so once you graduate the program; it is not the same thing as being institutionalized.”

Virgil picks at his cuticles. “I’ll be surrounded by crazy people and zombies. What if there’s a riot?”

“Virge, you know that’s insane asylums, and that stuff only happens in movies. The only people in this program are people like you who’ve had… trauma… And are having a hard time coping.”

Virgil is silent for a long moment before he asks quietly, “What if I’m the only guy?”

Patton sighs sympathetically. “We can go check it out before checking you in, if you want. Or we can look around for an all-male program if that will make you feel more comfortable.”

He finally sighs, careful optimism coming over the other three. “... Fine. If we can like… Find a guy one. And I wanna check it out first.”

Logan smiles and nods, adjusting his glasses. “I shall begin my search immediately.”

It only took Logan five days to find the perfect program. An all male-identifying (or masculine-leaning) inpatient program about twenty minutes away, run by two very competent and highly regarded doctors. On paper, it looked perfect; a mix of group sessions and private ones as well, outdoor and indoor activities, good, healthy food, and long visiting hours so that the three of them could visit whenever they wanted. All they had to do was get Virgil to agree to it, and they could get him checked in. 

* * *

Virgil is nearly pressed against Roman’s side as he, Roman and Patton walk through the facility. The walls are a soft, deep, muted pink, sort of like if someone leeched the brightness out of watermelon sherbet and used it to paint the walls. They walk down a short hallway and turn right, coming upon the lobby area. To the right is a large rectangular wrap-around desk with three sides, set against the wall where a door leads to the employee’s side of the check-in desk they’d passed. To the left is a rec room with a TV, chairs and couches, and a table. Attached to that room is another room of equal size, with six small tables. That must be the visitation area, Virgil realizes. Directly across from them is a hallway with about a dozen doors; the dorm area.

There are seven men around Virgil’s age in the rec room, some watching something on TV, some playing cards, drawing, or writing, and… Virgil has no idea what that guy is up to. He looks away. One of the doctors, the only woman on staff as far as Virgil has seen, is giving the three men a tour of the facility. She’s a plump woman with a warm smile and dark hair cupping her face in a short bob cut. A pair of rather old-fashioned looking glasses sit upon her nose, giving her a sort of mischievous librarian look. Virgil finally tunes back in to what she’s saying. 

“So, the schedule is structured in the sense that we have three group activities a day and set times for meals, visitation, calls and lights out, but other than that it’s left up to the discretion of whichever of us is leading the activity. Group therapy will always be at least twice a week, though, typically on Tuesdays and Fridays, and we leave room in the schedule for private sessions if it’s decided you need one-on-one support. We do have an outdoor area, but outdoor time is a reward for good behavior and participation. You get out of this program what you put into it; that’s sort of our slogan, you’ll hear that a lot if you stay on with us.” She turns to face the three men with a soft smile. “Virgil, you’d be the one staying with us; would you like to see the dorm rooms or talk to some of the current residents?”

Virgil’s anxiety spikes with three pairs of eyes now trained on him. He picks at his cuticles for a moment before glancing over at the common area. Roman squeezes his shoulder, speaking in a quiet and reassuring voice. “It’s okay Virge, we can check out the dorms for you while you go check out their setup. Go see if they’ll let you watch Disney or something.” Virgil huffs softly in amusement and brushes Roman’s hand away, shuffling over to the common room while Roman and Patton walk down the hall with Dr. Dot. 

The common room makes Virgil feel almost like he’s in a frat house. Well, minus the loud music, stupidity, and alcohol. The chairs and couches all have puke-green cushions, the old clunker of a TV is on an adjustable platform near the ceiling like the kind he grew up seeing in his elementary school classrooms playing some stupid sitcom, and the simple oak furniture is all beaten and dented to hell in that way that only furniture donated to a public program on a low budget tends to be. A couple guys look over when Virgil enters the room, but they quickly lose interest and go back to watching the sitcom. Virgil’s eyes are trained on the floor as he shuffles into the room and curls up in an armchair closer to the table than the TV.

One of the residents, a young man sitting alone at the end of the table closest to Virgil, looks over with a grin. “You must be the new guy! What flavor of crazy are ya?” He tears off a piece of paper from an entire stack of them and pops it in his mouth, moving it around and chewing on it before spitting it out into his hand and sticking it on a slightly phallic-shaped mass of paper wads.

Virgil resists the urge to shudder and gives the man a skeptical look. “... Flavor?”

He nods with a wide, slightly manic grin. “Yeah! Are you Blue Raspberry Depression, Watermelon Anxiety, Grape PTSD, or something  _ more  _ delicious?” 

Virgil is distracted for a moment, his cheeks turning pink as he watches the other patient work his hand over the paper phallus. What the hell was he  _ doing _ ? And why in the common room?

“You like it? I’m making a dildo!”

Virgil’s eyes widen and he launches forward, clamping his hand over the other’s mouth. His face was completely red and his eyes darted about in a panic, though it seemed like no one else cared about what just happened. Maybe they were used to it. He makes a disgusted sound when the man licks his hand, pulling back. He’s met with a cackle.

“I like you. Name’s Remus, who’re you?”

Virgil chews on his lip for a moment, working his voice out of his throat until his name was sitting on his tongue, weighing it down. He clears his throat and mumbles, “Virgil.”

Remus claps Virgil’s shoulder roughly. “Well Virgil, whatever flavor crazy you are, I bet you’re delicious. But if you wanna mix in a little vanilla and make it even better, this is a good place to do it. I can even make you a dildo!”

Cheeks red, Virgil looks down at his lap. “... Pretty sure the dildo will… melt?” That wasn’t the right word. Shit, what was the right word?

Remus’ eyes widen and he pauses. He looks from Virgil, to the dildo, back to Virgil, then swears and looks at the other patients. “Why did no one tell me?! Joan, you’re fired!”

One of the patients playing cards rolls their eyes. “You can’t fire me, Remus. We’re both patients.”

Virgil snickers, rolling his eyes.

* * *

Patton wanders into the common room half an hour later, looking around for Virgil. He opens his mouth to call out to him but pauses when he hears a familiar laugh, and he sees Virgil sitting with Remus and Joan on the couches, playing some card game and laughing at a joke Remus shared. Patton’s heart melts at the sight; he can’t remember the last time he’d seen Virgil this carefree.

Well, that was a lie. He could remember the exact day and moment. The day before The Fight, Patton had made a particularly genius pun and Virgil laughed for five minutes straight.

Virgil looks up at Patton and smiles, giving him a little wave. Patton walks over and hooks his thumbs in his pockets. “So? Whatcha think, Virge, you wanna stay?”

Virgil looks between Remus and Joan, then down to his cards. It felt good to laugh, he hasn’t had a good laugh in months but Joan and Remus managed to make him laugh so hard his face hurt, and he’s only been here half an hour. He looks up at Patton and nods, his smile growing a little at the relieved look on Patton’s face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woot, finally wrote something!  
> I've been busy with my Etsy cause covid has ruined my financial situation, but I carved out a day to write and got this out, thank god  
> I was getting restless
> 
> Also this chapter is a bit different since it's almost all dialogue, so enjoy that I guess?

“So, Virgil. One of the goals you’ve been working on here has been talking more, and better communicating your needs. How do you think that’s going?”

Virgil shrugs. He’s been at the Delray Center for Healing for a little over a month now, working personally with the doctor he’d met on his first day to understand and cope with his trauma. One of the biggest items they’ve been working towards is getting him to talk again, starting with Dr. Dot helping him to understand why he’d stopped talking in the first place. 

“Fine, I guess.”

_ “So to sum up what you’ve told me Virgil, you don’t feel the need to talk because you believe no one will care about what you have to say?” _

_ Virgil shrugs, picking at his cuticles. “Yeah.” _

_ Dr. Dot sits back, folding her hands in her lap. “Let’s look at that, shall we?” _

Dr. Dot smiles at him gently. “Is that what you mean to say, or is that what you think I would like to hear?”

He takes a shaky breath, more than used to the question by this point. “... It’s hard. It sucks. But… It’s easier with Joan and Remus… Sometimes Roman.” Dr. Dot nods and writes something down on her notepad. 

“Are there particular subjects you find easier to talk about?”

“It’s easier to talk about… heavy shit… with Remus and Joan.”

“Why do you think that is?”

Virgil shrugs. “I dunno…. I don’t know them as well? So like… if they don’t like what I say, it doesn’t matter as much?”

_ “Has Roman, Patton or Logan given you any indication that they don’t want to hear what you have to say?” _

_ Virgil’s mind instantly flashes to The Fight. It must show on his face because she immediately backtracks. “Let me try that again. Has Roman said or done anything to make you believe he doesn’t care about what you have to say?” _

_ Virgil thinks back over the past year, closely examining his interactions with Roman. He shakes his head.  _

_ “If he seems to be invested in your thoughts and feelings, is it safe to assume you can talk to him about what’s bothering you?” _

_ He sighs, looking down at his hands. “... Easier said than done.” _

_ Dr. Dot smiles softly. “I know. That’s what I’m here for.” _

“That is certainly understandable; we often worry that, even with those who show unconditional support, we may one day lose that support because of something we say or do. It’s far easier to speak freely with people we aren’t scared of losing.”

Virgil nods, pulling his legs up onto the chair. “Yeah,” he says softly.

Dr. Dot is silent for a moment before she says, “I would like you to tell one of your friends from home about something more serious before our next session. You get to choose what it is; how these sessions are going, worries you have, things you are anxious or scared about, but it should be heavier subject matter. Do you think you are comfortable trying that?”

Virgil chews on his lip. What if he said something that made Roman upset? What if he told Patton and made Patton upset? What if he offended them so badly they refused to come get him when he was released and he’d have to wander the streets, homeless?

“Virgil? What are you thinking about,” she asks softly.

“Being homeless,” he blurts, his cheeks coloring with embarrassment.

Dr. Dot purses her lips to hold back a smile. “Alright… Let’s play a game. Tell me the worst possible outcome you can possibly think of, anything goes.”

_ “Let’s play a game. You call Roman up, and you tell him that you’re having a hard time. Maybe you feel lonely living in a strange place, or you feel anxious about making friends or how your treatment will go while you’re here. What is the absolute worst case scenario, the worst possible way he could respond?” _

_ Virgil chews on his lip. “.... He gets angry.” _

_ “Why would he be angry?” _

_ “Because this place costs a lot of money and I’m wasting time being a pussy about making friends and being away from home.” _

_ Dr. Dot frowns slightly. “Are your friends in a tight financial spot?” _

_ Virgil shrugs. _

_ “Alright… Well, they seem to be understanding of the situation, and they want what is best for you. What would be the absolute best-case scenario?” _

_ He has to think about it for a moment. “... He gets it?” _

_ Dr. Dot nods. “Is Roman the kind of friend who would help you through your thoughts to ease your anxiety, or is he the kind of friend to lend a supportive ear?” _

_ “.... The first one?” _

_ “So best-case scenario, he understands your feelings and helps you feel less anxious.” _

_ Virgil nods.  _

_ “And what’s the most likely scenario?” _

_ He chews on his lip for a long moment. “..... I chicken out.” _

_ “What would be the most likely scenario if you did tell him?” _

_ “I think… he’d remind me why I’m here?” _

_ Dr. Dot smiles. “Think that would be a good idea?” _

_ He nods.  _

Virgil sighs. “Worst case… I upset everybody?”

Dr. Dot gives him a knowing smile. “Come on, you can do better than that. Absolute worst-case. Armageddon, aliens, hit me with your worst.”

Virgil smiles slightly. “.... Definitely aliens. And Godzilla.”

“Ooh, Godzilla! Haven’t heard that one before, nice touch. Okay, so worst-case scenario, you share something heavy with Roman and aliens  _ and  _ Godzilla invade Florida. What’s the best case?”

“... I dunno. He thanks me for sharing? I get a gold medal for being super open?”

Dr. Dot makes a note in her notepad with a small smile. “Good, good. And the most likely?”

After considering it for a moment, Virgil sighs. He’s so stupid. “He’ll totally get it and we’ll talk about it until I feel better.”

She smiles. “So, do you think you could do this homework assignment?”

Virgil nods, scratching at his pant leg. “Yeah, I think so.”

* * *

“Hey, Vee. Howya doin’, anything cool happen today?”

Virgil winds the phone cord through and around his fingers. “Just the usual; personal session, fucking around with Joan and Remus, coping skills class. Nothin new.”

“Oh yeah? How’d the session go?”

He can feel the automatic response on the tip of his tongue.  _ Oh, y’know, same old same old. How are you guys doing? _ But something stops him. He glances over at Remus and Joan sitting on the couch talking about something and making fun of the sitcom playing on the TV. “Actually… We talked about me telling you guys shit.”

“Yeah? What kinda shit,” Roman asks, his voice softening a little. 

Virgil fidgets, winding and unwinding the phone cord. “Well, uhm, y’know… I kinda… Sometimes I… Worry… That… If I tell you that I’m anxious or- or depressed or whatever, that… That you won’t care. And before you say anything, I know you care. I mean… That’s the whole reason I’m here. But like…”

Roman hums in understanding. “Is this ‘cause of the fight? Because you didn’t get to tell Patton what happened until later?”

Virgil swallows. “Yeah, I think so… Uhm…. And I feel kinda guilty about that? If that makes sense.”

“About not being able to tell him? Or about feeling like we won’t care?”

“The second one.”

“Listen, Virge. It’s okay. We get it, really, and Patton still feels super bad about that. It was a super complicated situation, but of course he cares about how you feel. We all do. I promise.”

Virgil sighs softly, feeling a little less anxious. “Right. Thanks, Ro.”

“Course. You guys talk about anything else?”

He shrugs. “Not really. We’ve mostly been focusing on me talking, since I kinda need to do that to deal with all the other shit.”

“Makes sense. Well, listen, if you ever need to talk to me, or Patton, or even Logan, we’ll always be here for you. Okay?”

“Yeah, I know,” he says with a soft smile. “How are L and Pat anyways?”

“Oh, they’re doin good. Logan’s been super busy with work but Patton’s been marathoning Disney movies with me. We usually bake and sing along, it’s pretty fun.”

“Sounds like it. I miss you guys.”

“We miss you too, Virge,” Roman says softly. “Maybe we can visit this weekend?”

Virgil nods, even though he knows Roman can’t see it. “Sounds good. Saturday is a free day so that’d be the easiest.”

“You got it. I gotta go, Patton’s gonna be over soon and all my baking shit is still dirty. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, talk to you tomorrow. Bye.” 

Virgil hangs up the phone with a soft, satisfying click and sighs. He feels lighter now that he’s talked to Roman, and it’s only because he’s gotten to know her well enough that he already can tell Dr. Dot won’t say “I told you so”.

She’ll only think it. And Virgil can’t say he blames her.


End file.
